


It's Okay

by chameleonCharisma



Category: South Park
Genre: Craig of the Dead, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Gore, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, creek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-09 23:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12899601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chameleonCharisma/pseuds/chameleonCharisma
Summary: It's quiet, but will it stay that way?A moment of peace and the thoughts that come with it.-Written for tuckerenthusiast's Craig of the Dead AU on tumblr-





	It's Okay

**Author's Note:**

> A little something inspired by [tuckerenthusiast](https://tuckerenthusiast.tumblr.com). You should absolutely check out their Craig of the Dead tag! The art for what they have planned is fantastic.

It’s quiet right now.

It hadn’t been, earlier. Earlier it was mostly yelling, your feet pounding on concrete, and the thick, wet sound of nails in infected flesh. It had been a rusty, disjointed shriek, followed by Tweek’s frightened cry as one of your former neighbours had come barrelling through a doorway, teeth bared. The snap-crunch of bone and the splatter of blood; then panicked, heaving gasps as you ran.

But now, it’s quiet.

Your steps have slowed, and a trembling hand finds yours, and you’re so used to Tweek's presence by now that you don’t even jump. You rub your thumb across his knuckles in an automatic gesture of comfort, and his fingers twitch-jitter-squeeze into something strong and comforting back.

It’s quiet, but will it stay that way?

You’re on the outskirts of town and the sun is setting, and it’s probably not the best idea to stay out in the open. That’s the kind of thing Those Guys would do, probably have done, and you aren’t stupid enough to take that risk. You're tired. Your ears ring with the echoes of mangled, rotting screams; of the choking rasp when you cut them short. Your shoulders ache, and your other hand is almost numb around the handle of your bat. Your legs might give out if you have to run again. Soooo tired.

But you’re lucky.

There’s some sort of shack or cabin among the trees, maybe a hunter’s hideaway. It’s tiny, but the windows are mercifully unbroken, and there’s furniture enough to seal yourselves in. It makes your hands hurt worse, and your arms tremble, but you both dutifully set to barring any entrances. It’s almost dark when you’re finally done.

It’s too quiet.

Now that there’s a moment to relax, to breathe, to take stock, you can’t help thinking. About your family. About your friends. About how it’s easier every time you bring that bat down. Again. And again. And again. You’ve long since stopped worrying about what gets caught in the nails. You remember the time you’d tasted blood after, and you’d panicked, you both had, until you realized your braces had split the inside of your lip wide open. Tweek had held you so tightly you thought you’d both break.

Movement.

You jump, gasp sharply as something brushes your arm. Just Tweek. You mutter an apology, shake dark thoughts away. He smiles so gently that you have to bite the cut in your lip to keep from tearing up. He gets it. Better than you do, probably. He reaches for you, and you can’t help but grab right back. You sit in the corner, as far as you can from any door or window, and just lean into each other. You both try not to break.

Slowing down.

Tweek’s breathing is steady, mimicking yours at first, but easing off into something more relaxed, closer to sleep. You’re badly tempted to follow suit, but you’re struggling. The part of you that’s been on edge for hours (or is it days?) screams at you to shake him awake, to keep you both alert, but…

But it’s quiet right now, isn’t it...? 

There's nothing outside scrabbling to get in. The tiny cabin is blessedly free of the scent of blood and decay, so you’re left with just the smell of Tweek and his hand sanitizer. And it’s so warm here, with him curled to your chest, head nestled in the crook of your neck, hands gentle in your own. He’s exhausted. _You’re_ exhausted. There’s been too many close calls, but aren’t you here together now, both safe? Doesn’t he—don’t you both—deserve just a little bit of this?

It’s warm. 

In the morning, you think, you’ll go. You’ll find Tricia, and Clyde, and your parents, and everyone. Even Stripe. You’ll do it, sure you will. You both will. Together. But right now, isn’t this okay? It has to be okay; to be just a little bit selfish, to be relieved that you’re together, to take comfort in this.

It’s okay.

Everything is going to be okay.

And you finally, finally sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I wrote anything here! Between a ton of stress at my job and moving countries, I've had a lot on my plate! 
> 
> I've gotten back into South Park! I used to watch it all the time in high school, but the games caught my attention recently, and they're great! Especially because Creek is canon. :D I'm hoping this leads to more writing on my part. I'd really like to post more frequently.  
> (Readers who have me bookmarked for Homestuck, I _do_ have things planned, it might just take me a little while to get back to them, sorry!) 
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)


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